


Happy Birthday

by ToMarsAndBeyond3



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: But this is an idea I may work on more when I can, I'm already working on two projects, It's interesting, This is more of a concept idea, reverse fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 00:59:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13823139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToMarsAndBeyond3/pseuds/ToMarsAndBeyond3
Summary: A concept piece about a boy named Osmund Priest, who's life takes a rather abrupt and violent turn when he is dragged into a place called Blackwing by a violent man named Dirk Gently.





	Happy Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure what this is. I'm not sure at all. But it's... Something. I don't know.

Osmund’s birthday was not going according to plan.

That was to say, they never really did, but this one was worse than most. The day had started out bleak, with rain coming in through his open window and peppering his sleeping face with water. Osmund had rolled out of bed with a scream when he awoke, thinking he was being attacked by the giant octopus from his dreams. After doing a thorough look around the room from his spot on the floor, and after confirming there was in fact no octopus, he breathed a sigh of relief and slammed the window shut.

Downstairs, he walked out to find that his house was empty, and the heavy wave of tension that had been coursing through his veins lifted off of him. His parents were already gone; he was safe.

It wasn’t that he hated his parents, it’s just that they weren’t necessarily good people. They set off his fight or flight response as soon as they set foot in the same room with him. They hadn’t exactly done anything to really physically hurt him, but that wasn’t the point. Osmund was just strange like that; he knew, he just knew, when someone was a bad person. It was like there was some tiny, invisible person in his head, telling him when someone was dangerous or could hurt someone.

His mother said he was insane.

The rest of his morning had gone by pretty quietly, with Osmund pulling a leftover cupcake from last week out of the fridge and putting a single candle in it. Lighting the wick with a lighter that he wasn’t supposed to know where to find, he sat on the table and made one, quiet wish to himself.

“I wish I could meet new people today.”

Why had no one ever told him to take better care of his wishes?

The two strangers who came to the door in the early afternoon reeked of danger, and Osmund was on edge as soon as he’d opened the door. The two of them looked to be about the same age, and both the woman and the man were dressed in the same black suits, complete with the leather gloves. Peeking around their elbows, Osmund could see more strangers by the sidewalk. The taller man, who had unnaturally white hair, smiled down at him.

“Osmund Priest?”

Osmund nodded, his hand still on the doorknob. He shifted on his feet, his whole entire body tensed up. The man bent down to eye level, meeting Osmund’s gaze.

“It’s nice to meet you, Osmund. My name is Martin. This is my Lieutenant, Amanda.” The woman, Amanda, waved down at him. Osmund looked at her for a moment, but didn’t respond. Bells were going off in his head louder than ever; he needed these guys to leave.

He needed them to leave now.

“I’m not really supposed to talk to people unless my mom’s here.” He shifted his gaze down to the cracked sidewalk, watching the way the tall weeds growing in between the cracks bent in the breeze. It was too chilly outside.

“Well that’s cool.” Amanda adjusted her watch, as she bent down next to Martin. “You want to hear a secret?”

Osmund shrugged.

“We’re not people. Not normal ones.”

Martin shook his head, exchanging an unconvincing grin with Amanda. Osmund shivered as the breeze brushed across his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. Why hadn’t he put on a sweater?

Moreover, why was he so unsettled?

“We work at a place called Blackwing. We’re trained to find and help people like you.” Martin’s gaze softened as he looked upon Osmund’s face, and the boy had a terrible sinking feeling that he had let some of his fear leak out into the open.

“Me?”

“You.” Martin rested his arm on his knee. “You’re a very special boy, Osmund. Did you know that? Do you know what you can do?” Osmund hesitated to respond, finally shaking his head as he clutched to the fabric of his shirt. Martin nodded.

“We think you can tell when something bad is going to happen,” said Amanda, “Like a smoke detector. It’s a pretty useful skill.”

“And we want to learn more about it-”

“ _If_ you consent to it. We can help you learn about that detector in your brain.”

Osmund shook his head, making eye contact with one of the strangers in the background. The man looked as tall as his own father, except instead of blonde hair, he had a very neat sheet of auburn hair instead. The man grinned at him, and Osmund’s blood went cold. The bells were screaming at him, giving him a headache.

He needed to get away from him. 

Osmund backed away a few steps, making no effort to conceal the terror on his face. He clutched at his chest; he was going to have an asthma attack.

“Osmund?”

“Get out!”

“Osmund, what-”

“I said get, out!” He surged forward, slamming the door in their faces. Muttering could be heard from outside as footsteps approached his door, and Osmund could see that man nearing his house through the window.

He didn’t bother to stick around. He turned on the spot, his eyes flitting wildly across the room for somewhere to hide. He had to think fast; they were going to get him. They were going to hurt him. They were going to… well, they were going to do something. Whatever it was, he had never heard the bells of danger so loudly and clearly ringing before. He bit his lip, and as the footsteps stopped right outside of the door, he dove behind the couch.

There were voices outside, and Osmund clasped his hands over his ears to try and block them out. It didn't work as well as he could have hoped, and to his dismantle and panic, he could still hear snippets of the conversation.

“Psychic-”

“Danger-”

“Keep Bart-”

“Send in Dirk-”

He buried his head in his knees, curling up against the back wall. If he stayed here, if he stayed quiet, then maybe everything would be okay. He would be okay. All he needed to do was think.

Where were his parents? Where were the police? Wasn't anyone suspicious of the group of strange people out in front of his house? The ones by the sidewalk had been leaning against a large gray van, talking in low voices to each other. Osmund couldn't see inside the van, but he _was_ well aware of the bars he could see through the window of it. Something was very very off about this whole situation.

He yelped as he was very suddenly and very roughly pulled up out of his hiding spot by his hair, and the man with the auburn hair was holding him up with a crooked grin. Osmund’s heart stopped, his hands paused in the air, dead in the act of going to push the hand away. For a moment, the man simply stood there, grinning at him in that unsettling, slightly maniac way.

Then, he dropped him.

“Hello Osmund.” Said the man, his shoulders shaking with a barely suppressed laugh. Oz went to wriggle away, only to cry out sharply as he felt the sudden pain of the man's fort kick into his abdomen. He curled into the pain, breathing sharply. The man smiled down at him, looking delighted at Osmund's reaction.

“Well,” he said, putting his hands on his hips, “You and I are going to have a lot of fun.”


End file.
